


The Doctor is Out

by Whisper132



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max endeavors to convince Steve that he is not Steve's personal therapist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Doctor is Out

Max had work to do. There was a bucket of limbs awaiting his analysis, and he was eager to get to them.

"It's really nice and quiet in here."

First, though, he'd have to flush the large, talking contaminant out of the room, swab everything back to sterility, and perhaps listen to some music to relax himself back into a working state of mind.

"We should get something like this. I bet Danny would like it." Steve picked up an empty test-tube – garbage now that it'd been held by ungloved hands – and looked around the room through its rounded bottom.

"I have important procedures to conduct. If you're having an argument with Detective Williams, might I suggest talking to him? Alternately, if this is about your multitude of neuroses, you might seek professional psychiatric help, which can be found in another building. Outside of my laboratory. Please leave." Max was kind enough to point toward the exit in case Steve's tactical expertise didn't stretch to common exit paths.

Steve put the test-tube down. "He's been really tense lately. He just hangs back." He scratched his arm, sending bits of epidermis loose into the room.

Max turned up the overhead air filter. "Again, I can't help you. In the unfortunate event of Detective Williams' demise, I can do something. I don't work with the living."

Scratch. Scratch. "And now that that woman's hanging around our team—"

"Yes, she's quite lovely."

Steve glared. "—I can't get any time alone to talk to him about it."

There was a deep silence. The prickly sensation Max got in his fingers when agitated was beginning to fade. Perhaps McGarrett had spent his mental reserves and would leave. Maybe Max could finally get to his bucket and the mysteries within.

"Well? What do you think?" Steve's nostrils flared while he spoke.

"I reiterate that I don't work with the living. Now please leave so I can sterilize everything you've touched and get back to work." Max again motioned to the door. "If you fail to vacate by the time I've finished naming the original crew of the Enterprise, I will call security."

Steve stood with his mouth open through all security staff but left before Max was halfway through engineering.

*****

"Commander McGarrett, have you ever been treated for obsessive compulsive behavior?"

"He said he wants to take some PTO to think about things. What does that _mean_?" Steve lay on Max's examining table, staring up at the ceiling.

"I believe it means that he would like to take his paid vacation days and engage in some reflection. If you require further clarification, I could call over to the psychiatric hospital. They'd be happy to listen to you." It was a slow day, and Max had planned to leave early, perhaps go to the comic book store and the bakery. The world was his metaphorical oyster as soon McGarrett stopped getting ass prints on his table.

"We went out for a movie the other day, you know, like a date, only he said I was going too fast and I said he was being an ice queen and –"

"Have you ever considered that, in your constant failure to acquire your desired mate, nature is sending you a message? Not all genetic material is meant to be shared."

Ah, so that was the 'constipated face' Detective Williams often referred to. For a non-medical analysis, it was surprisingly apt.

"What're you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that the only bodies that belong on my examining table are ones meant to be examined, and perhaps Detective Williams wants some time away from your overly abundant input to cultivate his own opinions about your relationship." Max walked to his desk and took hold of his briefcase. "I'm leaving. There is a panic button under my desk, and I will push it if you do not leave as well."

"You ever try just asking?" Steve slid off the table and lumbered toward the door.

Max shut off the lights and locked up. On the way home he'd stop by the pysch building and pick up a few cards.

******

Max opened his office door, turned on the lights, screamed, then closed the door. Once he'd recovered the ability to speak, he entered again. "How did you get in here?"

Steve gave a look that seemed to imply that Max already knew the answer. "I tried talking to him like you said."

"I never said anything," Max corrected.

"Sure you did, about how we can't have kids so maybe he's upset." Steve tipped back in Max's chair.

"I told you that nature doesn't want you to reproduce and spread your faulty genetics. I did not offer relationship advice."

"Turns out," Steve pressed on, kicking his booted feet up on Max's desk, indenting the protective plastic, "what had him all pissy was something about Grace's talent show." Steve shrugged. "We're gonna go together next weekend."

"That's wonderful," Max said, meaning every word. He had some independent research he wanted to get done, and a guaranteed distraction-free weekend was exactly what he needed to accomplish it. "Enjoy your time."

"I, uh," Steve scratched his head and Max winced at the dandruff he could see wafting in the room's light. "I wanted to say thanks."

There was a curious, satisfied feeling spreading through his heart that Max had never felt before. "It's the common thing amongst friends," he said, knowing it to be true but wondering why he counted McGarrett amongst his few friends.

"Oh, and there's a weird one we're working on. Think you can look over the body for us?" Steve held up a folder and Max snatched it.

"Anything for a friend," Max said, nose already in the file. "An eraser and a tape dispenser…fascinating."

When he looked up from the file a good thirty minutes later, McGarrett was gone. The indent on the desk's plastic cover remained, though. Max would add it to the expenses.

Friendship only went so far, after all.


End file.
